


Bait

by AnimalCops



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Graphic, Violence, Werewolves, how do tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 09:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19270291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimalCops/pseuds/AnimalCops
Summary: He had heard the lone howl on the night of the full moon and chased it. He chased it, ears pricked forward to track the call. But he followed the sound to nothing except a trap; he was captured by the enemy.





	Bait

Fenrir leaned forward and snapped his jaws angrily at a hand that wandered too close. The enormous wolf had wandered into the wrong area and he found himself trapped by some meddlesome wizards that knew just who he was. The huge black wolf raged at being captured. The wizards must have known from the silver speckling of fur down his spine.

He slammed his body against the bars of the cage he was stuck inside. The wizards had bound him with magic and moved him into the tiny cell. He was in the middle of a field. There was one small cottage on his left and the forest he had come from on his right. Metal bars were all around him, they were strong. He could bend iron bars easily. But these, whatever they were made of, he couldn't dent. 

“How much longer?”

The voice made Fenrir still and whip his head toward the noise. The pointed ears angled forward to try and eavesdrop better. 

“An hour or so. It should be easier.”

Lips drew back from teeth as Fenrir snarled and charged the bars again, slamming his shoulder into them. He couldn't get them. His head turned quickly when he heard a lone howl in the distance.

That was it, he remembered suddenly. That's what he had been chasing. 

The lone howl. It sounded so pained and afraid. 

Fenrir circled in the cage, he felt like the bars were closing in on him. He jerked his head to the side to look at the wizards. Their wands were bright with magic and he roared at them. Spittle flew and the noise shook the metal that he was trapped within. It was getting smaller around him. Rage swam within him like fish in the sea; he was full to bursting with a need to escape and run and howl and find the wolf that was screaming to him. 

The enraged wolf crashed himself into the bars, never letting up even as they pressed in closer and harder. They crushed him down until he couldn't stand or move. He snarled and snapped his jaws. He needed to move but had no ability to do so. He turned on himself, biting down on his paw, the only thing he could reach. The teeth tore and ripped flesh. Blood seeped onto the metal floor of the cage.

"He's hurting himself." One of the men said, moving toward the cage. 

The other one held out an arm, stopping the first in his tracks. "Let him. Don't go near him. He isn't Remus."

Fenrir stopped chewing on his paw at the word. Why did that word spark something in him? 

Remus.

Fenrir jolted, his body crashing against the bars that trapped him and tried to hold him in place. He couldn't stop the anger that welled up inside at the word.

_Remus._

Not just anger. Fury. Outrage. 

_**Remus.** _

Desire. Obsession. 

Fenrir froze suddenly. The pain that ran through his body didn't just come from his paw now. It was shooting from every nerve; each and every pore of his body pulsed with pain in an instant. His skin tingled and muscles twitched as the moon slowly fell. He howled out his pain as bone broke and formed more human shapes. His eyes closed tightly and he tasted blood on his tongue as his teeth changed and broke gums. 

The bars kept him there. Even as a human he was on his stomach, arms stretched out in front of him, hand pulsing blood from all the bite wounds. He opened his eyes. His one working eye quickly searched for whoever had trapped him. 

Dumbledore. And that one good Black family member. 

His uninjured hand gripped one of the bars and he squeezed with all his strength. He smirked as the metal caved beneath his fingers. It wasn't much, but it was something. 

"Let. Me. Out." Fenrir snarled.

Dumbledore simply looked over at Black. "Go fetch Remus. Make sure he's alright."

Tearing his eyes from Fenrir, the young man looked at Dumbledore. He gave a slight nod and hurried off.

Dumbledore flicked his wand and the bars of the cage moved away from Fenrir's trapped form. They gave him enough room to kneel, slightly hunched over. He took the opportunity and sat up on his knees. His good hand was still gripping the bar. The other lay limp at his side, bleeding slowly. 

"My apologies for tricking you, Fenrir."

"You didn't _trick_ me." The werewolf spat. 

"Oh," The wizard looked down at him. Aged fingers played with the wand he held as a smirk flitted across his features. "So, you're perfectly capable of escape?"

"Let me out." The werewolf hissed again. 

He took stock of what was going on; he was sitting there - naked and wounded - locked inside a small cell that was being controlled by the man that he despised more than anything. He was at his weakest in this moment and he hated every moment of it. He gripped the bars tighter and they collapsed more under his strength. 

"Now, that won't do." Dumbledore hummed softly. His wand flicked again.

A fresh wave of pain shot through Fenrir's body. He jolted, ripping his hand from the bar as a harsh lick of what felt like fire burned into his flesh. He jumped and knocked his shoulder against the bars on his side and he yelped as the bars burned him again. 

"Stop!" He roared, single amber eye glaring at the ancient wizard.

"Dumbledore." 

Black was back and was supporting Remus Lupin as he walked. The young werewolf was wrapped in a blanket. His nose had clearly been broken and fixed with magic. The trail of dried blood from one nostril was only partially wiped away. 

“You.” Fenrir snarled. His head turned as much as it could to watch the young werewolf. “You little rat. You fucking traitor!” He reached for the bar of the cage again only to feel that sharp fiery pain once more. He pulled his hand back and held it to his chest. “You pathetic whelp, betraying your own kind for wizards that want your species _dead_.”

“He’s not one of you.” Black snapped suddenly, holding Remus’ silent form to him.

Fenrir’s sharp eye caught the twitch of pain that Remus let slide. The wizard didn’t let go. If anything, he held on tighter. 

“They used you.” Fenrir hissed. “They used you to capture me. They used you like _bait_ to catch me and slaughter my pack.” 

Remus seemed to shrink in on himself. He didn’t say a word in reply. 

“Scared?” Fenrir pressed. He moved close to the bars, but was careful not to touch them. “They’ll only use you again. My pack’s blood will be on your hands, Remus Lupin.”

A shiver ran down Remus’ spine when Fenrir growled out his name. He turned his head away, eyes closed tightly. 

“Your name will be whispered through our forests. A traitor. A double-crossed. A turncoat.”

Black snapped suddenly, removing a wand from his pocket and waving it with a flourish. He hissed something Fenrir couldn’t quite hear and then the bars were closing in. He tried his damnedest to bite back any noise. But the bars burned his flesh like brands. He covered his face with his hands as the walls and ceiling pressed in on him. 

The werewolf yowled in pain as the fire of the metal bars burned flesh on all sides. He tried to curl in on himself but the bars moved with him, forcing him to contort his body. 

“Sirius.” Dumbledore said evenly, his voice quiet but easily heard through Fenrir’s pained snarls. 

The young wizard seemingly snapped out of whatever trance he had been in. He moved his wand again, muttering quietly, and the bars moved back. 

Fenrir gasped for air. The thin sheen of sweat that covered his body made the burn marks sting sharply. He panted desperately, trying to catch his breath. The air burned his throat. That single amber eye cracked open to focus on Remus. 

“See?” He rasped, throat raw, pain etching through his body. “See how they treat us? Like _vermin_.” 

“Dumbledore, I-“

The aged wizard shook his head and Sirius stopped talking. “Come, Sirius. We must see to young Remus’ wounds.”

“What about _him_?” The young wizard asked, head jerking in the direction of the caged werewolf. 

“Leave him.” Dumbledore said simply. 

“Someone from his pack might try to rescue him.”

“They will not be able to unless they were well-versed in magic.”

Fenrir watched as they turned and began walking away. But he swore that Remus briefly glanced at him, tired green eyes meeting briefly with amber and white. But he quickly looked away and walked back toward the lone cottage. Fenrir was alone in the cage; quiet morning air trying to rustle sweat-damp hair. His body pulsed with residual pain each time his heart beat. He curled up on the floor of the cell, the cool metal was some comfort. His hand had stopped bleeding; and that pain was nothing anymore. 

He wasn’t at all sure how to get out of this one. The pain that was causing his body to throb was paramount in his tired mind. He would have been in a weakened state anyway, just a few hours after his transformation back to human. But this pain was searing and hot. It was eating away at his strength like a dog feasting on scraps. He could usually do magic and was moderately skilled for someone that never graduated from school - but he was lacking a wand and the energy to use it. 

He closed his eyes and his mind drifted. He was curious as to how the wizards would finish him off. Werewolves were more sturdy than wizard were. He could hold up against stronger spells and he could handle more wounds. Maybe they would just use an unforgivable. But that seemed quite silly to Fenrir. These were Dumbledore’s lap dogs. They wouldn’t use unforgivables. 

He kept drifting in and out of sleep. Each time he seemed to fall asleep, he would relax and some part of his body would shift. And the burning pain would spread throughout him as he made contact with one of the bars. He would jerk back awake, pain and exhaustion holding him suspended. 

“Fenrir.”

His brow furrowed. That didn’t sound like any pack member he knew. He cracked his good eye open. 

Remus?

Remus was standing there in front of him. The burning bars of the cage were all that were between him and the younger man. He growled low, almost half-heartedly. He couldn’t bring himself to spare the energy. 

“You look pathetic like this,” the younger man murmured. He pulled out a wand and Fenrir twitched, as though he were expecting more pain. “You were right.”

“What?”

“You were right. They used me. They’ll use me again and again. And… I can’t stop that.”

Remus flicked his wand and the bars expanded, giving Fenrir room to sit up on his knees. 

“But I’m no traitor.” He said, swishing the wand this way and that. There was a tightness in his voice that Fenrir couldn’t place. 

Fenrir watched as the door to the cage opened slowly. He wanted to rush out, but he didn’t trust those bars. When the door was open enough, the older man crawled from the cage. He stood on his feet and stretched. It felt good. 

“Why?” Fenrir questioned. 

“That… it’s not important is it? My reasons are my own.” 

Fenrir examined the younger man for a moment before moving toward the forest. He so badly wanted to rip the other wolf limb from limb. But he supposed that was unfair. Remus was used as bait; it wasn’t his fault. Even if he couldn’t hold back from attacking the younger man, Fenrir knew he would be outmatched. Remus looked healed and healthy. Fenrir still felt weak and the burns on his body stung viciously. He refused to start a fight he knew he would lose. 

As soon as Fenrir had vanished into the forest, Dumbledore stepped out from the shadows. “Very good, Remus. Come. We can track him now. I’ve used a spell he can’t possibly detect.”

Remus watched Dumbledore leave. The young man stood there, watching until the old wizard had finally gone into the cottage. He looked back at the forest, eyes trained on the spot that Fenrir had vanished into. 

His words echoed in Remus’ mind. 

_My pack’s blood will be on your hands, Remus Lupin._

_They used you like bait._

_Like vermin._

He shook his head of the thoughts and spun on his heel, heading back to the cottage himself. 

He didn't want to think what would come of this.


End file.
